


Insurance Fraud

by NocturnLily



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Gen, Not Canon Compliant, Pre-Canon, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:51:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21537112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NocturnLily/pseuds/NocturnLily
Summary: 'The royal family employs no bodyguards. A would-be assassin discovers why.'Jessamine Kaldwin is approaching adulthood, and the Empress-in-Waiting already feels the stresses of her future mantle like the boughs of trees straining in a gale. In a dire fit of rebellion, she turns to the one person who could help. Euhorn ages ten years and needs a drink.A fun prompt for tumblr user lazywhaler, cause they were pining for some Jess/Daud shenanigans. Hope this lives up to what you were envisioning!
Relationships: Corvo Attano/Jessamine Kaldwin, Daud & The Whalers (Dishonored), Daud/Jessamine Kaldwin, Euhorn Kaldwin & Jessamine Kaldwin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Insurance Fraud

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lazywhaler](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazywhaler/gifts).

_3rd of Earth, 1824_

Her nineteenth name day was a grand affair, as was fitting of the princess of the Empire. The Great Hall in Dunwall Tower glittered with chandeliers and whale oil light; billowing banners of rich brick red, embroidered with gold, lit up the halls like a vibrant sunset. All of it cast rosy hues over the attending nobility, dancing and laughing and well-wishing as they took polite sips of ever-flowing champagne.

Jessamine was thankful for silk and chiffon breathing so well as it rippled airily with her movements; she was a gliding, slender figure cut in eggshell blue, the heels of her slippers clicking primly across marble. Windows in the west wing parlour stood open, keeping the party from growing too sticky from the hundred-something bodies in attendance. The air floating inside was thick and sweet, humid, but ultimately more free; how she wished to drink up tonight in the gardens. Under the stars, at least, she had room to think. The lace hanging from her shoulders shifted as pairs of bodies swirled around her, gently commanding her attention back to the present. For now, she remanded her fancies of liberation.

It wasn't long, though, before she retreated to the more slender of two grand seats overseeing the party, a small reprieve from mingling to ease a sudden, dizzy countenance. Somewhere, she heard the deep, gentle laughter of her father. She resisted the urge to bring gloved fingers to prop up her temple.

All the pomp and grandeur wasn't unwelcome, the mood was light, but parties weren't what chased away the pressure wrapping itself round the back of her head. There were heavy steps behind her, to the left. Being heard in his approach was intentional, and the effect was immediate.

Jessamine closed her eyes.

It was as though he could feel the storm stirring unbidden, could see it coiling her shoulders despite practiced grace. He was the only one who could. The Lord Protector stood as close as he dared, the only affection he could offer publicly. It was enough. It had to be, for now. A few moments more, siphoning comfort from his presence, and Jessamine rejoined her party with an easier smile. She swayed and twirled and graciously accepted compliments on her beautiful dress. A dizzying repetition, for her foreseeable future.

Near her, within earshot, an enthusiastic conversation about Her Highness' marriage prospects had bubbled up between a small gaggle of noblewomen. Jessamine had to swallow a frown, her father's voice cutting through to summon her.

Corvo panned across the attendees, unmoving and hawklike, as Emperor Euhorn Kaldwin lead his daughter to the center of the dance floor. A waltz crooned over the partygoers, speakers crackling lightly as the audiograph card rattled in its reader. The floor cleared, allowing them to move unhindered. Round and round they spun and, for a moment, Jessamine allowed herself to be in this simple pleasure. Euhorn's face, gentle and kind and warm, was framed handsomely now by the dazzling white and gold trim of his royal formals. A rosy flush, soft and blooming from spirits through the evening, only seemed to deepen in the reflection from the red, silken sash draped across him. Creases sprouted from the corners of his eyes, cradled by a smile so full and unwavering that she couldn't help but mirror it.

He was so happy. So _proud_.

Jessamine looked so much like her mother that he had to take a breath, lest the tears pricking his eyes overwhelm him.

Truly, she was a beauty to behold. Corvo allowed himself to indulge, focusing only on her, now, and the rest of the room nearly faded in his peripheral. A rare smile tickled the corners of his lips; all traces of tension lifted, like they'd never weighed on her at all. The orchestral piece was Gristolan, but he recognized a few of the refrains and hummed in time with it. Behind his back one hand lay cupped in the other, and the tips of his fingers fidgeted. Where some would call it a nervous tick, the tactile stimulation helped keep his mind from wandering too much. Unfortunately, during these long stretches of socialization, it was easy to fall distracted.

Like he was, right now.

There was a round of applause as the music ended, snapping Corvo back to attention. The emperor took his daughter's face in his hands to kiss her cheek; she laughed, his waxed whiskers tickling her. It was as though a haze lifted as Jessamine curtsied and, in the corner of his eye, the Royal Protector could swear there was a shadow of movement behind the gathered crowd.

His head snapped to the right, but there was no one.

Corvo's jaw set and his mouth tightened to a line, made note of it and turned back to surveying those that had rejoined the dance floor. He caught eyes with Jessamine and a knot settled on her brow.

_What's wrong__?_ her eyes said.

As quickly as it came, the concern in her features stilled and she was light and amiable once more. Jessamine made directly for her source of reprieve, and Corvo extended his hand to guide her up the rest of the way. Slender fingers remained resting in his gloved care; the Lord Protector offered a gentle, all-too longing squeeze before surrendering them. Another glance, past the crown of rich, dark hair sitting below him, Corvo signaled one of the nearby guards to take up his position. His pursuit was quick, but composed — the Royal Protector wanted to cause no undue alarm. His absence alone would raise questions.

Through the crowds and beneath the high ceilings of halls beyond the festivities, Corvo followed his quarry with purpose. There was a feeling he couldn't quite shake, unease bubbling around his nerves like ice. Rounding a corner he came upon a flight of stairs leading to the more private trappings of the Tower, and he took them two steps at a time.

It was quiet on the landing, empty, and his hand already hovered over the pommel of his sword. Laughter and conversation filtered upward, muffled and light, and yet he saw no Tower Guard patrolling. The emperor was a trusting man, but only to a degree — not even he would allow so many guards to watch the celebrations to be so negligent in their presence here. Veering into a branching hallway, the glass doors to the Tower's Abbey chapel were visible. They were closed, but he could see the figure of someone inside.

Occupied, even in this late hour? During a royal party?

Corvo's sword drew with a hiss.

As he approached more figures became visible, appearing distorted through the etched and frosted panes. Latching onto the brass handle, the door swung cautiously open as he pressed inward. None responded to his entry. Unwilling to forego his blade just yet, Corvo took stock of the room — three guardsmen slouched against the walls, an Overseer propped against the podium. First instincts told him the guards might have snuck away for drinks to celebrate. Negligent, but not unheard of. Still, that didn't account for the abbeyman. Now that he looked closer there were no bottles in the room, but the sweet stink of alcohol hung thick in the air. The Lord Protector's hackles tightened. Behind him, the voices of guardsmen approached; Corvo turned and whipped the flat of his blade against the doorframe for their attention.

Against the bookshelves, a floor above, a shadow whispered past.

* * *

Corvo trusted the mess in the chapel to the Tower's guard captain, descending as quick as he could to resume his post. Music still filtered over the great hall, and the imperial family nor their guests were any the wiser for his absence. Or so it would seem.

It wasn't difficult to spot His Majesty among the festivities; a bubbling glass in one hand, the other clapping another gentleman over the shoulder, he was engaged in a spirited group conversation. While they only wore the more modest livery of their service, Corvo recognized the congregation as a few of the noble patriarchs that served their crown. Satisfied his emperor was otherwise occupied, Corvo panned across the attendees before doubling his attention back. Both men caught each other's gaze and, with a warm smile, Euhorn excused himself before making his way towards the refreshment table. There was a pointed stare as he did this, and the Lord Protector followed.

The emperor was quick, already brandishing two glasses and offering Corvo one before leading the way again to an adjacent hall. Away from more prying ears, Euhorn turned and fixed the Serkonan man with tense concern.

"I know that look, Corvo," he hummed, exhaling over the rim of the crystal tumbler as he took a sip. "Something troubles you."

Under Euhorn's observation he licked his lips, parting them before they closed again. Corvo's fingers tightened around his glass as he turned, looking toward the upper floor landing. When he turned back, he found the emperor contemplating the direction.

"Whatever disruption you've found, I trust you've taken care of it."

Indecision weighed on the Lord Protector's brow, and the emperor frowned.

"You wouldn't leave my daughter's side unless you thought it serious enough." A gloved hand rose to his chin, lips pursed in thought. "I'll have Jessamine retire early tonight—"

Corvo shook his head; the last thing he wanted was to upset the evening's festivities. Euhorn regarded him a moment more.

"Then I shall take this to mean that everything is under control. Take what measures you need, so long as my daughter is safe."

It was a decisive end to the conversation as the emperor returned to the grand hall, leaving Corvo to his thoughts. Only the most brazen would dare to upset such a multitude of witnesses; a concentration of powerful nobility, at that. So long as she remained in the relative safety of numbers, Jessamine's well-being was assured. Surely he wouldn't be missed if he took a moment to follow up on whatever happened in the chapel. His feet took him downstairs, this time, to the service barracks. Corvo barely made it past the landing when he heard a berating stream from a room down the hall. Following it and shadowing the door only the captain was visible, his lightly wrinkled face scrunched in sneering disapproval.

"—what, was there a private service being held?" he mocked. "Or did you get bored with your duties, decided you would sneak away for a nip?"

"No, sir, we don't—"

Corvo peeked around the corner, watching all three guardsmen doing their hardest to not wilt under the cutting gaze of their superior officer.

"And you, Overseer, I expect better from—"

"Do not lecture me, Captain Hurley," the abbeyman huffed. "I do not answer to you, and I would hardly subject myself to imbibing to such a shameful degree."

"Maybe you'd like to explain that to the High Overseer, then," he sneered, and there was no rebuttal. "Because that's what will be happening."

One guardsman rubbed at his neck and, in his venture to look anywhere but the captain, he caught sight of the man shadowing the door. Corvo was impressed how much whiter one's complexion could sink to. He made a sound involuntarily, and Hurley's head whipped round to fix him with a hard stare before following the line of sight.

"Lord Protector." All present, barring the Overseer, stood at attention before Corvo bid them at ease. "I've already issued terminations for their negligence—"

"We weren't, sir!"

"BULLSHIT. How you lazy fucking hounds ever made it into Tower service—" Three files thrown hard onto the table nearly scattered their paperwork over its surface. "—is beyond me! Make no mistake, Lord Protector, I'll have a full report ready for you on the morrow. I have some questions for their previous CO, this is void-damned _shameful_."

There was a muted snerk, poorly timed, and the captain wheeled on the abbeyman.

"And I'll be sending _you_ back to the Abbey with a letter of dismissal."

"Careful, captain." There was a coy hint of self-satisfaction in the Overseer's tone. "Acting beyond your authority towards a brother of the Abbey, and in the company of the Lord Protector? Are you so gluttonous for power?"

The implication wasn't lost on the room and, despite himself, Corvo narrowed his eyes at the scowling mask. There was a shuddering of shoulders, a silent laugh.

"The Lord Protector is your only chance—" Hurley pointedly stared the abbeyman down before continuing to the others. "—at appeals. Dismissed."

One by one, the guardsmen saluted Hurley, then Corvo, before filing out. The Overseer was last in the procession, hardly put out by the heavy stares boring into his mask before he, too, was gone. Hurley pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head.

"What a damn mess," he sighed. "Four men, neglecting their duties on Her Highness' celebration—"

Corvo cast a questioning look to the captain, panning a full hand over his own face.

"The Overseer? Name's Alton," he clarified. "How he got assigned here, I'll never figure. That'll change tomorrow, sir, I'm sure of it."

With personnel files handed over, and an overview of the information the captain had gathered, Corvo tried to work out what bothered him so much about the situation. The alcohol that clung to them was familiar, but he couldn't place it.

* * *

The festivities concluded an hour ago, but Jessamine had yet to dress down for the evening. She lay with her arms sprawled across her bed, legs hanging over the edge and swinging just above the tapestry-sized rug beneath. She was tired but not at the same time; she was _restless_ and, though she knew better, wanted to sneak out—somewhere, anywhere—to enjoy her name day alone and of her own accord.

The ceiling—embellished with circular, swirling motifs—was a perfect vessel to receive her distant stare. Jessamine thought back on the endless parade of guests, the barely contained scandals and gossip that bubbled among them; chief among them, the Boyle estate's recent streak of acquisitions. They were amusing, but she was thankful that her father still handled the brunt of their nonsense. Court would resume tomorrow, she would deal with it then.

(not finished! Just had to post the draft before i lost it!)

**Author's Note:**

> Instead of Jess' light blue tapestry we see in game, I went with using colours appropriate for the month instead. Earth falls roughly around August on our calendar, and that colour spans between orange or an orangy-red. I took a bit of liberty with Dunwall Tower itself, too - so much unutilized space!


End file.
